Pitiful lies, p.13
Pitiful Lies, page 13
“If you’re looking to get fucked in the woods over there, keep kissing me like that, Koukla.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-GISELLE
Angel’s promise echoes in my head right before he nips my bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes widen, and his resounding growl tells me he knows why.
It’s like he already knows my panties are completely ruined. Soaked through because of his filthy words.
I know I shouldn’t like it when he says things like that, but my heart beats double-time and wetness floods between my legs.
“Fuck. Come here,” he growls, and pulls me with him.
Excitement sends lightning bolts of awareness shooting through my spine. I’ve never had sex outdoors.
I mean when would someone like me have that kind of opportunity?
Hell.
I’ve never even been interested. Never so moved by pure lusty desire that I’ve ever even been intrigued by the prospect of fucking outside.
Until now.
My pussy clenches. Angel glances at me, his gaze zooming in on my hard as nails nipples and I know he can see them through my thin top.
He licks his lips, and now my pussy is aching. I am desperate to have him there.
Inside of me.
I imagine him pushing that big, thick cock of his into me and I moan.
Angel looks over his shoulder at me, and his icy eyes are blazing with heat. You know what I mean.
Like blue fire.
I’m mesmerized by him.
All that worry and precaution I thought I was taking with him this time has all been nothing but hot air. I know Angel holds all the cards, but I don’t care.
It doesn’t even slow me down. I want him so badly, I’m throwing caution to the wind.
His legs are long, and I am practically racing to keep up with him. I think we’re heading towards the big space where we parked the car, but instead of going towards the gravel lot, he guides me right into the woods.
The sun is setting, and there is just enough light for me to make out his glittery stare.
Angel cups my head and kisses me. I moan and wrap my arms around his neck while he bends, lifting me by my ass.
“Oh God,” I whimper as he presses my back against a huge tree.
The hand on the back of my head is stopping me from leaning against the rough bark.
Such a protector.
He takes care of me all the time. No one has ever really done that. And it makes me feel so damn special.
Like I am important to him.
“Hold on,” he instructs, his long tongue licking into my mouth.
I feel him working the zipper of his jeans, jostling us both as he frees his dick and rucks my skirt up around my waist.
He pulls my panties to the side and then, suddenly, he’s right there.
No pretense.
No warmup.
No foreplay.
In his defense, though, this entire date has been like foreplay. And Angel knows it.
He growls as he kisses me, his big chest vibrating against mine. Then he just flexes his hips, and I-I love it.
“Angel,” I moan as his big dick pushes into me.
“Shhh. Keep those wild screams for me, Little Doll. Anyone sees you like this and I’ll have to kill them.”
His words echo in my ears, and I hold him tighter.
God, his words.
They shouldn’t excite me. But him saying that, acting all possessive of me, well, it makes me even hotter for him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, so tight,” he grunts.
Angel lets go of my waist, and I drop harder, taking his thick cock deeper inside of me.
My nails are clutching at his shoulders and neck. I’m holding him so fucking tight.
His rough breathing fills my ears, and I know he’s just as far gone as I am.
It’s crazy.
Feeling this way.
Letting him do this to me in public where anyone can see.
But it’s also the hottest damn thing I have ever experienced. So freaking sexy. And I know he’s telling the truth when he says he’ll flat out end anyone who even thinks about peeping.
He feels so good. Holding me like I’m precious. Filling me like no one else. Angel touches me in places I can’t even begin to describe.
“That’s right, Little Doll. Only I can do this to you. Only me. Feel me. Feel all of me,” he growls, and I realize I must have said some of that out loud.
I roll my hips in time with his thrusts, and I do as he asks. I feel him. And he is fantastic.
Angel’s masculine scent is all over me, surrounding me, and I love it. His big, hard body is more than capable of supporting mine, but I marvel at his strength and the ferocity of his passion.
I’m scared I can’t match it, but I do. Pride fills me as I accept the fact that I fit him perfectly. Just like he fits me.
There is no denying this.
No denying us.
I let go of all my inhibitions. Push away all the nagging reasons I should keep what I feel for him under wraps.
Angel is inside me, so deep. And not just my body. I’m talking about deep inside my heart, my mind, my very soul.
I don’t think he even knows or understands at all what I am feeling. And I don’t think I can tell him.
Heck, I can’t even speak.
My eyes roll upwards, and I see stars peeking out through the canopy of trees.
An owl hoots.
Music from the fairgrounds is still playing. But it’s far away. Somewhere in the distance.
I think I hear a car start up, or maybe two, in the lot a few yards away.
But none of that matters.
All that matters is this.
Him.
Me.
The present.
My orgasm is building, and building until it crashes into me, washing out every other sensation. I bite down on his neck, trying to muffle my moan.
It’s too much.
It’s not enough.
Angel is wrecking me. He is destroying me for anyone else.
The way he’s been courting me.
The way he touches me.
How he makes me feel.
He’s becoming everything to me. And it’s not enough. I still want more.
I shouldn’t trust him. I shouldn’t want him so badly.
But I do.
God help me, I really do.
His huge cock strokes inside me again, curving just right so he’s hitting my G-spot, and my orgasm doubles.
My orgasm drags on. He feels so damn good. It’s all too much.
Clinging to him, I know I can’t keep quiet.
He knows it, and he presses down on the back of my head, fitting me firmly to his neck, and I bite harder.
I worry I’ll hurt him, but this is Angel. He likes it rough, and he rewards me by grinding against my needy throbbing clit.
Angel’s moves become jerky as he follows me right over the edge.
“That’s it. That is fucking it. Suck the cum right from my body,” he growls, and I feel his cock pulsing as he fills me with his hot seed.
There’s so much of it. It’s dripping down my thighs.
“Fuck. You’re so fucking good at taking me, Little Doll. So perfect,” he says, and his breathing is rough.
Angel pulls out, reaching between us, he scoops some of the mess from between my legs with his big hand, and he shakes it onto the forest floor.
Then his hand is back, and he’s fixing my panties, petting my pussy when he is done. And I shouldn’t like that. It’s absurd.
But I do like it.
“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
Angel smiles, and he kisses me sweetly. Another reward for a job well done.
I melt into him, sighing when he allows me to slide down his body.
He keeps me steady with his big arms wrapped around me, and I’m grateful. I need a moment before I can stand on my own.
“You good?”
I nod.
“Yeah, you’re good,” he says it with pride this time. “So good and dirty, aren’t you, Little Doll?”
I bite my lip. He grips my neck, pulling on my hair as he tugs me closer.
“Let’s get you home and clean so I can dirty you all up again. Want that? Tell me.”
Excitement hums in my veins. I swallow, my eyes never leaving his as I open my lips to respond.
“Yeah, Angel, I want that.”
It’s the truth. I do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR-ANGEL
Ifidget with my phone, glancing at the screen for updates.
Giselle is at her parent’s apartment, checking in on Resa today. Her sister called and told her she and her boyfriend had the flu or some shit.
Koukla is such a fucking sweetheart, she made a big pot of soup herself and insisted on bringing it over.
Warmth rushes through me as I picture her taking care of me like that.
It’s weird. I never had that. But I want it.
I am so fucking obsessed with this woman.
Still, I worry. I was supposed to go with her, but then I got called in for a meeting. I wanted to tell her no. But that would be crazy.
I might be obsessed with the woman, but I’m not crazy. So, instead of me, she took six heavily armed bodyguards with her. My top guys.
It’s the only way I can bear to let her out of my sight. Especially after the news I get at this meeting.
“The aftermath of taking Sanchez down is turning into a problem, Boss,” Luc says.
“How so?” Nico asks.
“Small time players thinking about taking over. They don’t seem to realize it’s ours now,” Luc says.
He’s talking about Ghost. It’s the codename for a Chinese gangster who runs everything from drugs, guns, gambling, and girls from Connecticut to New York City.
He doesn’t have a foothold in Jersey, but he wants one. Mainly, he wants our ports.
Like everybody fucking else.
Criminal organizations like his are like cockroaches around here. You stomp on one, you got a thousand more waiting in the wings.
Luc starts citing off eyewitness reports from our eyes in the field. His guys are pushing their boundaries, taking over turf that ain’t theirs.
The Vipers don’t deal in petty shit anymore. And what we allow, we allow because we have the final say.
We don’t allow trafficking of any kind in our city. As for drugs, well, the best we can do is keep dealers out of schools and parks.
People are gonna do what they want. But some shit is pure poison, and we keep that out of our city.
Every day it seems drug laws are changing. I don’t do them myself. But I don’t judge others.
The Vipers might not be boy scouts, but we are a damn sight better than other motherfuckers out there. Those guys don’t care if their junk is killing people.
“Two people were found dead last night in the alley behind the Iron Cage,” Luc says.
The Iron Cage is a bar about ten minutes away from the Den.
“So what?” I ask, because unfortunately, dead bodies aren’t exactly hard to come by in Jersey City.
“So, they OD’d. They both had empty baggies with a G emblem on them.”
“Fuck,” Nico growls.
“Ghost. It has to be,” I tell them.
No, Ghost hasn’t been a problem for us before, but without Sanchez around, the illegal drug market is down one major player.
It’s possible the Asian gangster thinks he can fill the void.
A thought he is likely to regret.
I am already texting one of my team leaders to scope out the motherfucker’s known haunts.
If Ghost needs a message from the Vipers just to be clear that this town is off limits, he’ll get one.
And soon.
“On it,” I interrupt Luc, and the Council dips his chin.
“Good. Now, let’s talk about our new agreement with Margaret O’Doyle,” Nico says.
“She’s got balls,” Luc replies. “Already she’s dismantled the prostitution ring her sleazebag father was involved in and put those who wanted jobs to work for her.”
“I bet that was shocking for a lot of people,” I say.
“Yeah. She’s really turning that old Irish mob family into a female-strong organization.”
Luc grins. I just grunt. Margaret O’Doyle is smart and daring, but she is young and inexperienced. A lot of folks won’t like what she’s doing.
“How are the boys taking it?” Nico asks, and he’s smirking.
My cousin always liked rooting for an underdog, but if there is one thing I learned in our dealings with the new head of the O’Doyle clan, it’s that Margaret O’Doyle is smarter than people think.
I guess that’s what makes her the perfect dark horse. She’s a twenty-two year-old woman who’s already established she won’t take shit from any man. Not even her pops.
That piece of shit had to go.
But his redheaded firecracker of a daughter coming out as bi and slaughtering half the original members of her old man’s organization?
Well, that’s just sheer audacity. Margaret O’Doyle is ballsy. I will give her that.
By inviting the Vipers to her ascension as head of the O’Doyle clan, she is proving smart.
Very fucking smart.
Because Margaret O’Doyle is telling the whole fucking world who she’s in bed with.
Metaphorically, of course.
None of us are touching anyone but our women ever again. We know it. And for the most part, they know it.
My Koukla needs some assurances, and I’m gonna give them to her. I was planning on it this weekend, but now we have to go to Boston, and I’m hoping she is okay with it.
“Alright, here’s what Ms. O’Doyle is offering us to officially partner up with her,” Luc begins, and yeah, I know I should be paying attention, but I’m not.
My mind is elsewhere. Specifically, it’s back in my condo where I left Giselle this afternoon, all spent and sweaty. Sprawled out across our bed, the sheets in a perfect state of dishevelment at her feet.
Our bed.
Fuck.
I really like the sound of that, but the woman keeps bringing up looking for her own place like she thinks she can’t stay with me.
I want her to.
Can I do that? Can I just keep her?
I mean, I don’t see the problem. But the woman avoids the topic like it’s got cooties.
Even without the sex, and let me tell you, the sex is fucking incredible, we get along. I enjoy talking to her, laughing, watching movies, taking her out, spoiling her. Even cooking together is a good time.
The things that come outta her mouth. Jesus Christ. She is so goddamn delightful. I mean, she thinks about things I never even considered.
She’s smart. Like really smart. Curious about everything. And she is not afraid of a fucking thing.
Not a big oaf like me, that’s for sure.
I like her. I really like her.
Shit.
That sounds stupid. But I think it might be important.
I know Giselle isn’t some stray kitten I picked up off the street. And no matter how badly I want her to stay with me, I am going to have to give her more than I have been.
Shit.
My feelings aren’t something I talk about very often. I mean, I’m the head Enforcer for one of the most formidable gangs in the tri-state area.
I don’t exactly wax poetic on the regular.
But if it means keeping her with me?
I’m willing to try. And isn’t that a fucking stunner?
Of course, we’re beyond attracted to each other. I can’t keep my fucking hands off her, and just thinking about it makes me hard.
Hell, she’s just as insatiable as I am. And it’s sexy as fuck.
“Angel,” Nico interrupts my wayward thoughts, and I flick my gaze to my cousin’s.
Luc’s already left the office, and I didn’t even fucking notice.
“What?” I ask.
“Boston. It’s this weekend.”
Fuck. I forgot all about that.
“This weekend?” I repeat, but I know my cousin didn’t fucking stutter.
“You got a problem with that?” he asks, and the fucker is smirking at me.
“No, Boss. No problem.”
The king can be a real ass sometimes, but no, I don’t have a problem.
I just need my girl to come with and for the weekend to go smoothly.
Easy fucking peasy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE-GISELLE
After spending an entire day doing my sisters’ and her asshole boyfriend’s laundry, cleaning the mess they made of the bathroom and common rooms, I finally leave them with a pot of homemade soup and all the over-the-counter medicine I could find.
“Ready, Miss Vega? The boss is waiting for you,” Banks, one of my new plethora of bodyguards asks me as I gather my things.
“Yeah, we can go,” I tell him.
Resa and Dan were inside the bedroom, sick as dogs, so they only saw one of the guys come inside with me.
“Oh my God, are you dating like a politician or a rap star or something?” Resa asked.
Of course, I didn’t explain a thing to her.
What could I say, really?
My boyfriend, who I’m not really sure if he is actually my boyfriend because we don’t use labels even though I am living with him, is involved with one of the most powerful criminal organizations on the eastern seaboard?
No biggie.
I roll my eyes. But I didn’t have to explain. I gave her and Dan some electrolyte infused water and a couple of cold and flu tablets and they fell asleep within minutes.
The cleaning part I did on my own. Just thinking about our parents seeing that mess made me cringe.
They won’t be returning to New Jersey for a couple of months yet, but still. I plan on having a talk with Resa when she is feeling better about all this.
I tuck it away for now.
When I get back to the apartment, I see Angel feeding Buffy a plump mouse, and I have to fight not to shiver.
It’s just nature, and the snake is only doing what snakes do.
“Koukla,” Angel murmurs the nickname he has for me.
He dips his head towards the kitchen, and I follow him inside, where he washes his hands.
